


My Toxic Valentine

by BellatrixDraven



Series: Hotch and the Holidays [2]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: But also angst because I can, Gen, I hope this is okay with everyone, and fluff, happy endings will happen though, hopefully more fluff than before, more romance, so this is turning into a series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellatrixDraven/pseuds/BellatrixDraven
Summary: a sequel to Christmas Is All Around, with more crime, more BAU, and of course, more fluff with Hotch. Also title is directly taken from All Time Low, because it's a great song and witty title-Valentine's is rolling around, and while everyone knows you and Hotch are together, they won't stop teasing you about plans- or worse, trying to make them for you as you're too awkward to set some of your own





	1. Chapter 1

For quite a while, February had been your least favorite month. It was short, full of sleet and just barely warm breezes to taunt you with spring, and it had one of the most ridiculous holidays. Valentine's, you had decided in college, could burn in hell because it was just a magnifier of relationships and left people to feel rather awkward without a partner. You had grown out of it as you matured, but as you walked into the office, you felt the return of distaste, sure one person was behind it.  
"Derek Morgan," you glared at him as you made your way to a desk piled with red and pink streamers. "I'm going to kill you."  
"Come on, it's great. Good color for you."  
"I'm going to kill you." You repeated calmly, shoving the glittery paper aside. "I'm going to go get my coffee. If I come back to find even a teensy bit more glitter, red, pink, white or heart themed anything, I will make your life living hell." You smiled, patted his cheek lovingly and turned on your heel.  
It wasn't that Derek was awful, he was just a general pain in the ass. From the very moment he had picked up that you had a crush, he had done everything in his power to set you up, teasing and making a sort of hell. In the end it had worked out in his favor, as you had finally accepted the almost-not-quite dares, and had kissed Hotch on New Year's. One month later, and it still felt odd. You smiled to yourself as you poured the coffee, it was nice, if odd to be dating your boss.  
Not that there had been a lot of dates. Both of you were busy, so mostly it was quick texts and a coffee if you were lucky.  
"Where's y/n?" You could hear Hotch's hurried tone, and you looked up quickly.  
"Coffee with Reid." JJ replied.  
"I'll get them, everyone briefing room. Now."


	2. Chapter 2

By the time you hit the briefing room, each screen was filled with horrific pictures and names, each worse than before. You sank into the chair by Rossi, heart suddenly hollow and sick.  
"Morning everyone. Six bodies, this time in Maine. Each of our victims was poisoned, varying types that range from hard to find to common everyday. Each was found with a bottle of red wine." Garcia clicked through the pictures, shuddering at each one.  
"What's the one that brought us in?"  
"Well, six in four days was the main cause for alarm, but also another-" Garcia winced as she clicked to the last series of pictures. "Somewhat familiar signature. Carvings in the back."  
Your face must've blanched based on the sudden worried looks from everyone on the team. You blinked, feeling like your eyelids were sandpaper. Two dry swallows. Anything to refocus on the case. You managed a curt nod to Garcia, letting her finish, and taking Rossi's hand for reassurance.  
"This time it wasn't carols or poetry, but was instead, artwork."  
"That's reminiscent of Albrecht Durher." Reid said, leaning forward to look at the pictures. "That's very heavily influenced by Durer and his contemporaries."  
"High Middle Ages art, another holiday slaughter, this is shaping up to be hell on earth." You muttered. Your back twinged, still healing from the carving from Christmas. First Christmas, now Valentine's. You didn't want to be around when Leprechaun became reality instead of a terrible movie.  
"Wheels up in thirty." Hotch told everyone. You loosened your grip on Rossi to collect your files and head back to your desk. It should've been fine, just another case, it would be solved quickly, it would be fine-  
"Y/n?" You looked up to see Garcia's look of concern. Everyone else had drifted out, Hotch lingering at the door for a moment before being pulled away by Rossi. "Y/n, just breathe, okay?"  
"Yeah, yeah, okay."  
"You can stay here for the case, no one could blame you."  
"No, I'm not going to sit back, the team needs me, I'm the best at research. I just gotta, I gotta breathe." You felt lightheaded, dizzy.  
"Y/n, you're having a panic attack, sit down. Put your head between your knees, breathe, listen to me."  
"I want Hotch."  
"Hotch? Okay, I'll get him, just sit down okay?" You nodded dully, sitting down gracelessly. Her shoes seemed brighter than ordinary, a startling turquoise piece with silver sequins at the toe. It glittered and flashed, rather like a disco ball as she turned to go find Hotch.   
-  
"Y/n, I'm going to give you the choice. You don't have to go on the trip with us, you can stay here in DC with Garcia."  
"No." You sounded raspy. You cleared your throat and tried again. "No. I'm the best at research, I have to go."  
"It's too close to home, you need to stay home."  
"Then why offer me the choice Aaron?" You snapped. It wasn't fair to take it out of him, and you wanted to take it back for a moment. "I can't sit it out because I was stupid last time. I know now, and it's because I was under the carving knife that I'm the best shot you have at this now. I'm going to Maine, whether it's on the BAU plane or catching a more expensive one and a train."  
You held your head high and stared, not letting your eyes waver. His eyes were hard, and there were arguments forming on his mouth. There was logic and you knew he was right, anyone with any sense would send you home, and not let you near the case at all. But you held your ground, letting your gaze fill with ice. Finally he looked away.  
"Get your stuff. But if there's any sign of a problem, if I think for a second that it's too close, you're coming back."  
"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir." You nodded and left, stopping at your desk to shove the glittery streamers into the garbage and pick up an extra file folder. You had a feeling you would need it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is short, I'm in a bit of a rut at the moment. I'll do my best to come back and fix this chapter and make this fic great. If anyone has suggestions, they are more than welcome!!
> 
> Thanks to all of you who enjoy my writing, it makes this worthwhile <3

The trip to Maine was uneventful. You refused to look at Hotch during the flight and settled into studying the pictures. You focused on the costumes, each was perfectly crafted with intense attention to detail. The angels were in soft white satin, golden accents and silver stitching. Even the wings were carefully crafted, feathers sewn together in multiple layers that looked perfectly airy and almost as if someone could float. The devils were dressed in sultry red and black, with intense focus on makeup over clothing. The eyes were perfectly smoky and smudged, but with an almost watercolor feel. They looked like they were sculpted and designed by Michelangelo.  
"What's your thought on the carving?" Morgan asked, moving to sit beside you.  
"I feel like we need a better word for it."  
"It's not too close to home?"  
"Not at all. I can compartmentalize, it's a bit of a habit actually." You flipped back to the morgue reports. "I feel like Antoinette Jackson is the odd one out here. She's not like the rest, no connections. Not the same career, no school similarities, she's a dyed brunette. Something isn't right about her."  
Morgan paused and moved to sit beside you, looking at the Jackson's photo and details. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he nodded.  
"I think you're right. There's not a reason she's there."  
"She was the first one."  
"No, that would be obvious, it's not all Silence of the Lambs."  
"No, her body was the first one. Look at the details from the crime scene. She has the fastest rate of decomp. The rest are surrogates, he wasn't planning to kill her. He's got the most regret on her. Look, he's done her makeup the best. Her costume is perfect, not a single thread out of place. And all the evidence would suggest that this one is special." You brushed your hair out of your face.   
"Y/N may be on to something." Reid said.   
"You and JJ look into that." Hotch said. "Morgan, you go talk with the Sheriff and ME. Y/N and I will handle the crime scenes." He gave you a quick glance, and you bit your tongue to hold back a mulish glare. It didn't go unnoticed, and his jaw tightened as he looked away.   



	4. Chapter 4

"I don't need a babysitter Hotch." You fumed. His jaw tightened as he slowed down for the red light.   
"I don't think you need a babysitter."  
"Could've fooled me." You went back to your file. "I screwed up once-"  
"I'm not babysitting you, if you think you need a babysitter you can fly back to DC and stay home until we're done. Surely you've got something to catch up on." He told you shortly. You snapped the folder shut, suddenly furious.  
"Aaron Hotchner, don't fucking patronize me. You didn't end up almost on the morgue table, with fucking Joy to the World carved forever on your back. You weren't subsiding on lime Jello and tomato soup, saline drips through Christmas, and you certainly do not get to tell me to go home. Without me, you wouldn't have gotten Janine alive."  
"And if you hadn't made a stupid mistake, you wouldn't have had a panic attack in the briefing room this morning." He snapped as you pulled into the parking lot to examine the crime scenes. You shoved the door open and slammed it as loudly as possible, fury singing in your veins.  
"Agent y/l/n, this is Agent Hotchner, we're with the BAU." You held up your badge, and got nodded through. The ground was sandier than expected, but you were glad it wasn't dealing with grass impressions and the like. You knew this wasn't the first crime scene, but had been the most disturbed. Twigs had been snapped, deep scuff marks from boots dragging, and hopefully that would be the best clue for the beginning of the profile.  
"Seen anything yet?" Aaron asked, coming behind you.   
"We just got here."  
"Actually you've been standing, examining this area for fifteen minutes. I talked to the sheriff and deputy. So, seen anything?"  
"Not really, but I feel like there's something that I keep missing. Hold on-" you lifted the nearest branch with your pen. A few threads were knotted around a stem, and on the underside of the leaf was a smear of dark lipstick. "This is trace. He would've had to reapply the lipstick if it got smeared."  
"It doesn't make sense that her mouth would've been near the leaf, he would've been dragging a dead body, probably by the ankles." Hotch's brow furrowed.  
"Unless she was alive." You murmured. "I'll check the underbrush for more smudges,"  
The ground wasn't as disturbed as you did a sweep. But as you came back, more disheartened than anything, you saw something that made your stomach flip.  
"Ho-Hotch." Your throat felt dry. "Hotch, I found something!"  
"What is it?"  
"I-" you knelt closer. "Blood. And-"  
"Oh my god, y/n, come on, get back." Hotch gripped you under your shoulders and pulled you back. About three feet from where you had been was a broken edge of a knife, and a half rotted sketch of the artwork on the victim's back.   
"He carved her right here, before dressing her and fixing the makeup." You whispered.  
"Come on y/n, I think we need to get to the hotel." Hotch helped you stand, one arm wrapped around your shoulders. "I'll get Morgan out here to work with me, you need to go calm down. Probably need to go back to DC."  
"Yeah, maybe." You whispered, heart feeling like a shaky hummingbird in your chest. "Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

"I think you really need to come home." Penelope said. You readjusted your phone between your ear and shoulder, pacing the hotel room.   
"Yeah, as if. I had a freak out, but I need to be a part of this one."  
"You've been in the news, how do you know you won't scare the unsub into silence?"  
"It's a risk we have to take." You said. "He was sloppy, he took the victims to the dump site alive, then carved them and stuffed them into the costumes."  
"And what are you thinking that means?"  
"He's drunk on power." You shifted again, and put the phone on speaker. "He likes making his victims know that he's in control, and that they have no way out. He probably does some form of mental torture on them. Maybe even depending on how they act during that decides if they're his devils or angels."  
"That could be a possibility." Reid said, coming in from the hall. "Power play is a classic symptom. He wants everyone to know he's in control, even if he doesn't show the whole world."  
"What if this is his world?" You asked. "He doesn't want to show it off in town, that would be too obvious. But think, the dump sites are very carefully picked. Out of the way, but once discovered, it would wreak havoc and throw the world off kilter."  
"Hotch asked me to look into the plant samples from each crime scene, and I've got the analysis bubbling. I'll call you back when it comes up. Reconsider coming home y/n." Penelope said before hanging up. You sighed and turned to look at Reid.  
"You think I should too, don't you?"  
"I'm not one to say yes or no. I think you need to do what's best for you." He said. "And if you don't go home, I think your plan is beyond the pale and Hotch will personally kill you."  
"A chance I have to take." You looked back at the mess on your bed, thinking. "Best way to catch a killer is through his mind. I'll get into it in the easiest way possible."


	6. Chapter 6

"Tell me this plan again?" Morgan said incredulously. "Because I can't have heard it right."  
"You heard it correctly." You sighed. "Every devil was a stripper, whether current or former. I'm going to go undercover at the local club, make myself known as the must-see new act, and get through it. With luck, we'll nab the bastard and be done before we even have to worry about another body." You looked at your bed, biting your lip.  
"I know you blame yourself for Janine being hostage, y/n, but you can't carry the guilt forever."  
"I can." You said spitefully. "I will, until I get every one of these sick people, because no one deserves this, and if I made it out of the woods, I'm going to protect every other person." Your hands were shaking, and you had to sit down. "I can't let other people die because I ended up getting hurt."  
"You don't have to put yourself in danger."  
"This makes up for being a complete idiot in North Carolina." You sighed. "Which one, I want to be eye catching." You motioned at the bed. One outfit was dark purple and white, lacy and open, leaving nothing to the imagination. The other was scarlet, silky and teasing, with high heels and a garter.  
"Red." He said. "And make your eyes smoky. I hope you know what you're doing."  
"I don't. But luckily, neither does Hotch. Let's hope he doesn't find out." You picked up the clothes, looking at Morgan with an awkward grin. "Care to help me put it on? I gotta cover it with my normal clothes, but it takes another pair of hands to put it on properly."  
"How'd you do it before?"  
"Garcia was with me when I bought it. I did it on a whim, completely as a joke."  
"And you brought it with you?" Morgan raised an eyebrow.  
"I had it shipped. We've been here three days. Garcia sent it priority."

"I can't believe you guys." Morgan shook his head.  
"Help me Morgan, I've got to go see Hotch in ten minutes." You thrust the strappy bustier at him. "Come on, he'll kill me if he has to come in and see this."  
"Maybe he'll hope it's for him."  
"Shut up and help me."

He did, lacing you up carefully and helping you fix the garters. "I have to admit, you look pretty good y/n."  
"Thanks Morgan." You replied a little drily. "Alright, where's my normal clothing?"  
"Back on the chair." He nodded. "I'll go step out and see what Rossi's doing. You sure you don't want cover tonight?"  
"I'll be good." You said, tugging your shirt on over the lingerie. "As long as Hotch doesn't find out, I'll be totally fine."  
"Even without your gun?"  
"He doesn't take them from the stage, he waits until they're going to their cars. I'll have my gun then. And not where it can be easily taken." You turned to look at him. "If all else fails, I'll get off the stage and call you."


	7. Chapter 7

"Are you doing any better?" Hotch asked. You looked up from the paperwork with a small smile.  
"Yeah, lots."  
"I'm sorry. About yelling at you earlier and taking you to the crime scene. I should've thought it out."  
"We didn't know Hotch, it's not a big deal. We know what to avoid now." You flicked back to the map, connecting all the dump sites with a thick red line. "This is seems to be random. Where's Reid when you need him?"  
"He went on a coffee run." Morgan said, coming in with another manila folder. "He'll be back soon. Staying late y/n?"  
"No, I was going out to run a few sites to warn other girls. Come with me?"  
"I will." Hotch volunteered. You paused and looked back at Morgan.  
"I'd rather Morgan did. He's sure to make an impression with any of the girls that I can't connect to. You'd probably scare them, you never crack a smile."  
Hotch frowned but then nodded. "You're probably right. Morgan, keep me updated."  
-  
"Is this the right place?" Morgan asked, idling in front of a club with bright red neon lighting. "Because this feels wrong."  
"Cupid's Bow?" You snorted. "It's definitely a starting place. You handle the bar, I've got the stage."  
"Are you sure you're up for this?"  
"No offense, but you're not what the attendants are looking for." You started undoing your shoes and leaned back to grab the heels from the backseat. "God this is going to be one of the worst nights of my life."  
"Think of it as practice for when you do-"  
"Shut the fuck up." You hissed, hitting him with your spare high heel. "I swear to god, I'll get Reid to destroy your hearing with his screaming on your MP3."

  
"You won't."  
"Test me." You huffed. "See if I won't. Now if anything happens and you need to talk to me, come over and hand me cash like any other patron."  
"You need a code word?" Morgan asked, sobering up.  
"You have one in mind?" You smeared a little lipstick on, turning to look at him nonplussed. "I mean, it's undercover and we're going against the rules here."  
"I can still call your boyfriend."  
"Do you want me to get Garcia on the line because I will sweetcheeks." You tugged your jacket on. "Buy me a drink when I reach the first break. Something overly feminine to catch the creep's attention, play to stereotypes."  
"Alright. Code word?"  
"Candygram." You said after a moment. "Now come on before I lose my nerve or freeze to death."  



	8. Chapter 8

"Sweet, sugar, candy man," you purred softly as you swept down the stage. Your heels clacked lightly on the floor, colors scattering across like diamonds. One hand trailed under the nearest man's chin and you knelt in front of him, continuing the act. With a flourish you stood and made your way to Morgan, who waited with one eyebrow and a deep green drink.  
"What can I do for you handsome?" You asked, a perfect smile on your face as you traced over his shoulders.  
"Don't suppose I could get something private?"  
"That depends." You took the drink lightly and sipped, eyes flicking over the crowds. "What's in it for me?"  
"Whatever it takes."   
"I'm yours." You finished the drink and set it down carelessly, letting it clatter on the table. The lights were warm and you were feeling them, almost sticky with sweat and glitter and the touch of other men. "I think our guy is in the back corner, under the blue neons. He's drinking a Coors."  
"Gotcha." Morgan wrapped one arm around your waist and picked you off the stage, holding you close. "Meet you at the bar in ten, keep light and flirty. I've already got a tab for us."   
"You're the best." You kissed his cheek and made your way to the bar, humming to yourself. You weren't sure if Morgan was going to approach the suspect or let him come to you, so you just leaned on the bar and waited. "Cosmopolitan please,"  
"Make it two." A voice beside you said, sliding close. "Don't want to make you wait."  
"You're a charmer." You replied with a laugh turning to him, before stammering to a halt. "A-a,"  
"You look familiar." Hotch said. "I feel as if I know you."  
"What the hell," you hissed. "Aaron, what're you doing here?"  
"Buying a drink."   
"Jesus." You drained the glass as quick as you could. "I'm going out for a smoke, I hope you aren't actually here and I'm just drunk." You moved through the crowd without care, knocking shoulders and getting caught on chairs and people but not apologizing. Outside was cold, you could see your breath in golden clouds.   
"Hey doll."  
"Don't." You groaned, rubbing at your eye. "Wait until I'm off my break."  
"Y/N, come on." You look up at Morgan, scowling slightly. "Come on."  
"You called him."  
"What?"  
"You called him, you called Hotch, he's been here the whole time, you called him." It ended with shouting as you hammered your fist on his chest, trying not to cry. "He's been here the whole time, watching, you knew he was here, and it's all gone to shit now. We can't catch him now, it's all blown."  
"Hey, hey," Morgan caught your hand. "I called him, but I didn't tell him to come. I said that we were patrolling a club, just to make sure we could play it off before he pulled us off the case. I didn't know he was coming. You're gonna freeze out here, come on, back inside."  
"I'll catch a cab."  
"Y/N."   
"Fuck." You muttered, rubbing your nose. "Alright, lemme talk to him. I'll be back inside in a moment." Morgan hesitated but nodded, passing Hotch on the way back.   
"I thought you would at least ask before trying to go undercover."  
"I knew you'd say no, you tried to send me home after the first crime scene."  
"A member of my team was injured in the last case, carving on the back which showed up again. Forgive me for being worried."  
"You weren't worried about me, you thought the carvings would be noticed and scare him off, like a victim had survived!" You snapped. "You don't give a damn about me in this situation, it's all on how the unsub reacts and how well your team looks. Fuck you Aaron, fuck you, fuck you!"  
Hotch stared, frozen and hurt, before grabbing your arm before you could leave. "I was worried about you, what if you got kidnapped again? We got lucky last time, I can't risk losing you, not like Haley, not like anyone else."  
"Don't." You started, trying to pull away. "Don't play that card Aaron."  
"Y/N just listen."  
"What?" You snapped. "Go on, what's so important that I'm not getting?"   
And before you could finish the thought, before you could lash out anymore, Hotch pulled you closer, and pressed a firm, warm kiss to your mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy, finally some steps forward in the possible relationship with Hotch. Who knows where it goes from here, but at least it's not dancing around each other and awkward motions.  
> That being said, don't cut someone off with a kiss. It works in fanfic but is actually kinda shitty irl, just so you guys know.


	9. Chapter 9

Half of you wanted to melt into the kiss, being one of the few since New Year's. The other half wanted to shove him away, and that was the half that won.  
"Don't even think about using that against me." You started. "How dare you-"  
"Hey man," a voice slurred from the door, making both of you turn abruptly. "I think you should leave the stripper alone. Asked nicely,"  
"Stay out of it." Hotch said coldly.  
"Told you to get lost," the drunk said, stumbling toward you. "Don't want to cause trouble." He reached out, holding on to your arm, tugging you away from Hotch. "Don't worry sweetheart, I gotcha."  
"Let h-"  
"It's fine." You interrupted. "I was just leaving, thank you sir." You smiled at the drunk, his face hidden by shadows. "Let me call a cab for you."  
"No need, I live around the corner from here, I can walk." He smiled back at you.  
"Let me walk with you then." You said. "The least I can do since you stood up for me." You offered your hand, and after hesitating a second, he took it. He led the way and you shot a look over your shoulder to see Hotch, fuming against the nightclub wall. The drunk was nice enough, and didn't try to touch you other than grabbing your hand when he stumbled.  
"Here's my house." He said. "Thanks for walking for me. What's your name?" He wrinkled his nose, trying to stop a sneeze.  
"Oh." You paused. "Candy. You know, we strippers have to find cutesy names." He laughed.  
"I like that. I might see you around another time. Name's Jim."  
"Nice to meet you Jim." You waved as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. "Stay warm tonight."  
"You too sweetheart."  
You made your way back to the club, shivering slightly as the wind picked up. Hotch had gone back inside and Morgan was waiting outside for you. He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged, not really in the mood to explain what had happened. Morgan shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to you, which you took gratefully.   
"You know, the guy could've snatched you, and you clearly have no weapons on you."   
"What's a little kidnapping, nothing that hasn't happened before." You said, a little callous. "I'm not Hotch's toy nor am I actually you know, his girlfriend, so he doesn't get to stake a claim to me and tell me not to do things like that. You and Prentiss and JJ have all done things like that and he never gives you shit for it."   
"I guess that's fair baby girl," Morgan sighed. "Just, he's one of those overprotective types. Especially after Hayley."   
"I know." You said. "I just wish he'd consider that I'm not her."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay, this is literally just filler because I'm pretty braindead at the moment, but!! I promise to try and update soon, with the added bonus of smut if I have the time to outline and have it beta'd.  
> Sorry guys, I swear I'll come back to this.

Morgan took you back to the hotel, where you spent a fitful night. You were exhausted and needed the sleep, but despite your anger at Hotch, you still felt slightly guilty. Around four in the morning you gave up, wiping the grit from your eyes and starting a cup of the instant coffee, generously provided with the room. You splashed cold water on your face, put on your suit and went to knock on Hotch's door. He opened after the second knock, looking as worse for wear as you felt.  
"Morning." His voice was rough and gravelly.   
"Hi." You offered a small wave, not sure how to proceed. "I uh, wanted to say sorry, for last night. It was wrong to go behind your back, and it was childish to leave you just to walk that guy home. Especially since he could've been the unsub."  
"Apology accepted. Come in." He opened the door so you could brush past him. You could smell the bitter coffee brewing, and it was apparent that you two were going to have a long day, red eyed and sore.  
"Aaron,"  
"Stop." He held up a hand. "I owe you an apology too. I had no right to go investigating, trying to see if you were going undercover. And I was wrong to humiliate you at the club last night, both at the bar and outside."  
"Well, we both admit we were out of line. That's good." There was still tension, thicker than tar, hanging in the air.  
"Y/N,"  
"Hotch," you started. Everything was tense, crackling like static, and you were tired and had had enough. "Kiss me."


End file.
